HISTORY

No end to the stupidity'
To the cupidity'
To the futility.
No end to the trajedy
Of man's life on earth.

No end to the ferocity,
To the verbosity,
To the rapacity.
No end to the velocity,
Of man's fall from grace

No end to the ravings,
To the cravings'
To the slavings.
No end to the knavings,
Of man as a race.

No end to the lies'
To the cries'
To the sighs.
No end to the buys
Of sadness and dismay.

No end to the violence,
To the science'
To the finance.
No end to the silence
That licenses all these wrongs.

No end to the beginning,
No end to the ending'
To the replayinmg.
Just an endless disarraying
Of man's mindless way.

The Idealist

A man conceived in his own rhyme,
Fanned overwrought by the fires of his line.
Conceited by his seeming power over time,
By taking movements over in their prime.

Planning the overthrow of mind,
Conceiving a universe of his own kind.
Believing he has has his private mine
In past excesses of the blind.

The ravings of this disorderly fringe
Embossed on paper that impinge,
On every decent value bought at hard cost,
And so easily over the side lost.

He has banished character to the hills,
And enshrined senselessness in all its ills.
Oh what a legacy we've left
To only thise who are so deft.

His ideas sound very nice
But reality exacts a different price.
Progress can't be bought at another's expense,
Its not a gift but recompense.

The harborings of someone's illusion
Have now become a mass delusion.
Prompted by unknown collusion
And now awash in growing confusion.

How many causes lie hidden
By most of us unbidden.
But now completely embalmed in Law
No matter how obviously raw.

Yes, there's evil in the theme
And much forgotten in the scheme.
The sword that you now wield
Indiscriminately makes many yield.

The power to present
Is the power to prefer.
To lift one person up
Is now to cast another down.

Power now has its revenge,
The usurper is of another fringe.
Truth is trampled like its always been,
Right is just another name for the power of the in.

BiCentennial Blues

Into the forbidden zone
Crept the High Court all alone.
And with powers heretheto unmknown
Wiped out past excesses with its own.

Doctrines once thought bad and raw
Have now become settled law.
And many things good that went before
Now are forgotten for evermore.

Those who now have rights
Can do no wrong.
And those now in the wrong
Can do no right.

The shape of the future
Glimmers from the Past
Like embers of a fire almost out
But carelessly ignited again by ignorant touts.

We are judged in Time
In the same way as past.
No matter who or how
We regard ourselves as cast.

But something has to be said
And someone has to say them.
To break the chains of thought
That bind us to damnation.

The fight is not to free men's minds
But to bind them blind.
So that no matter what
We can't tell wrong from right.

Its a game that other people play
With other peoples lives and way.
And most only have the option of sayin g nothing
And allow it to keep its sway.

Ah, they said the world is twisted and decayed.
Just give us a chance they said and we will make it sage.
But now this stupidity to which you have contributed your share,
Tells you why the world is always unfair.

A bigot used to be a person who deprives another of his rights
But todays despots say it really is those trying to hold on to what they've got.
Why this should be
Makes History.

Where are you?

Can you sit on a throne?
Can you mark time alone?
Can you be by yourself?
And wait on the shelf?

Can you keep your head up?
Is your spirit alive?
Can you feel good inside?
While you look like deprived?

Can you make a good fight?
Can you do what is right?
Can you refuse to go along?
With the same old songs.

What do you know?
Where have you been?
Who have you served?
Besides your own kin.

Can you think for yourself?
Are your ideas your own?
Can you hold to your opinion?
Or you wait for the Evening edition?

Must we always be perfect?
And always correct?
Can't we be a little human?
And have som e defects.

Its no mistake we're down the drain.
It's all become a very big pain.
We forget what's acceptable in the main,
And sweep away all that's sane.

Schizophrenia

To what it is
From what it was.

To being free from the facts
From being responsiblefor your acts.

To being entirely excused
From being falsely accused.

To abandoning the innocent
From saving the guilty.

To having the only position
From having no opposition.

To not being able to oppose
From not being able to propose.

To the majority of the few
From a minority of the many.

To suppressing the majority
From oppressing a minority.

To a way of domination
From a process of accommodation.

To never enough
From not enough.

To propagandizing education
From training leaders of Men.

To the Know Everythings
From the Know Nothings.

The Higher Mathematics

How much difference makes a difference?
How many is too many?
How far is far enough?

How many wrongs make a right?
How do the extremes become the means?
How does a point become a pattern?

What is true
When everything said for it is false?
And everything said against it is true?

What is right
When everything right works wrong?
And everything wrong works right?

Why do we think we can bring in a new good
By reviving old evils?
Why is it always true but never a fact?

Why does the right to be wrong
Become the right to do wrong?
Why what we perpetuate also preponderates?

When can a fact not be a fact?
When you are blessed
Does that mean the rest of us are damned?

"All Things Pass" says the philosopher
But some not soon enough
And time seems still and all seems ill.

And yet our lives don't stand still.
Burdened alive with every ill.
Given no rest and against our will.

When does fooling become ruling?
When does reason recognize reality?
And Law approach morality?

Growth

While I flee the frightening waves,
Always running, never fighting.
Hoping to escape, yet feigning
That I'm still the same.

But the years as the waves wear me down
So that less and less of me still remains.
And Time not only steals my body
But forces me also to abandon myself.

Like a routed army fleeing a defeat
Its path from disaster strewn with lost promises.
Its goal the final loosing, and loss,
Of what made it first exist.

Yet, there still remains that me,
That feeling that I'm still there.
Leaving me with faith that as the years go by
More has been added than lost.

As if something continually works this being
To the perfection of that form desired,
So that at the end a new person emerges
Through the growth that is life.

My Dear Wife

I would like you to smile again,
To laugh and be at ease.
To come and go about your day
Without a job to please.

To pleasse me and be yourself,
Would sweeten my drab life,
To see you home again at night,
And be my own dear wife.

The endless pressures of the day,
Rob each of the other,
Now we hqve no time to play
Or even talk to one another.

The burdens that are placed on us
Play hazard with our lives.
No one cares how hard we toil
Or how it affects our sighs.

Company

I'm glad its just not me
Others also question what they see.
And the same answers to the same cancers
Forces many others to flee.

I'm glad I'm not alone
And I've much company at home.
Of those who went before and swore
This was the last the world would foam.

I'm glad I'm not too bright
Banking on others not being right.
I'd trust to God no matter how odd
To give me mush insight

I'm glad I'm just me
And try for the best I can be,
And feel no compunction to add to my unction
Like everyone else who's at sea.

I'm glad I'm still alive
And feel somewhat happy inside,
And have no desire to add to the fire,
That keeps going on outside.

Lost and Alone

God has left us
Religion has gone from us
Reason no longer resides in us
And we are all alone.

Alone with our ideas and notions
Independent of the Past's potions
Arrogant with our own devotions
Ruled only by our own emotions.

Emotions that will drown us
That surely will confound us
Taking all the promise from us
To a new Dark Age around us.

We who are of sense and age
Thought of this and raged
Trying hard to avoid this stage
And now are lost and betrayed.

Betrayed by our arrogance and conceits
Led by modern methods of deceit
Our future mortgaged to a retreat
Tribute to the past we can't beat.

Genevieve

In the quiet of the night
While I pondered on my plight.
And I wondered if there was to be
A place for me.
Hoping that some day
I'd find favor in some way
And that this long night
Would finally end my fight.
While I waited for the dawn
Hoping for my world to be reborn,
Praying not again to be forlorn
Trying hard to mend what 's torn.
Each day my prayers were sundered.
No rest from dreams that blundered
With all my hopes again and again crumbled.
Every day like the one that went before
Every night an awful bore.
No friend or counsel to increase my lore
No help or encouragement to add to my store
Only your love to hold my hand
Just your smile to help me understand.
From where do I derive my shares?
Does God readily lend out his wares?
And why to me who already has misspent?.

The Movement

It starts out to be so brave
To force the world to be its slave
And many hurt to do its work
So that soon all will be saved.

But somewhere among the Din
It lets something else creep in
And things once thought to be for nought
Now are considered acceptable sin.

And soon there comes a time
That many are startled to find
That nothing has changed at all
And we only exchanged its kind.

Doubt once in
Plays havoc with our Win
And now in its great strength
Embraces all it finds within.

How we do our best to hide
Any view of this outside
But uncertainty prevails and inside of us quails
Making what we do contrived.

Our voices still proudly stream
Our views of what we claim we've seen
Yet despite our eagerness and joy
What we say sometimes sounds obscene.

And soon we are not alone
Others play a different song
And all we say and all our drive
can't interfere with what has grown.

And one day its gone again
No matter how many our men
Nor how mighty our side
And we can only say "I remember when."

You hear patches of the same refrain
That time has continually worn down
Like splotches of paint on a fence outside
That rain and wind has weathered all around.

The force of this persuasion
By Times processes of invasion
Have left us a tune still heard
But now regarded as a little absurd.

The music has no charm
Time has worn its melody down
And the events of the day which hid its way
Are now clearly visible through Times Play.

And no longer does it have force
To move people to remorse
And takes its place this new day
Among all those things that have passed away.

There seems to be a regular rhyme
Of ideas that move through Time
That no matter what the sign
Has its day and passes on.

Progress

Like a Giant bubble vastly overgrown,
Our ideals become the only known.
And everything we valued that once was hallowed,
Is now remoreselessly overthrown.

No sense intrudes on this result,
Most take part in this assault,
And there are few who have another view,
Drowned out by the ceaseless Faults.

Reality flees again,
Struck down by mindless Pens,
While artful voices of heartless choices
Cover up the sins.

Ah such dishonesty writes another page
of History's charades
Stripped of what it gives itself and hides
And now lies exposed on stage with age.

No wonder the world is the way its been,
With everyone objecting to some sin,
Unhesitatingly add what they can to the total bad
While claiming immunity for acts of kin.

The standard of the reference pin
Grows remarkably blind depending on what state its in,
And Morality is no concern of ours in turn
And the acts we formerly mourned are now our prime return.

How easily we forget our fight
How quickly we forget what's right
And memory can't recall nor worry at all
About all those things that now are trite.

Yet the sounds still linger on,
The forms we use still excite alarm,
But the meaning isn't there and noone seems to care
As long as the show is still put on.

And nothing matters anymore.
Just sleek words used like they were law.
And a real note played would cause endless dismays
To Believers who already know the score.

How I Feel

I've lost my turn
Something happened to my place
I've grown old and accustomed
To be a lost case.

I've lost my place
Just a nobody with no face
A name that nobody associates with me
Just getting old and used to disgrace.

I've lost my youth
Always taking a step back
But hair and skin and much chagrin
Must show something that I lack

I've lost the race
And now I can't endure the pace
All that's left to me that's free
Is dwindling to my own small space.

But I must admit
And can't help saying it
This is the way I want it
And I wouldn't change a bit.

And what I feel I crave
Is more important than the toll I've paid
And this feeling that I've saved
Keeps me going unafraid.

Babeleo

Prayer

Dear God, give me the wisdom, the courage,
The understanding, the temperment, to go on.
Let me give thanks to Thee for being me.
Let me rejoice in Thee for being with me.
Let me not forget Thy gifts and Thy kindness
Which all my life I see.
Let me give thanks for all those with me,
And who help me be.